by Susan Meier
But if Mrs. Hernandez said the wrong thing at her card club, Elizabeth’s misgivings might return and she might start asking questions they didn’t want to answer.
Still, he couldn’t let his housekeeper see she had the upper hand. Instead, he smiled at her. “Besides, nobody believes anything you say.”
“Why do I work here?” Mrs. Hernandez mumbled as she walked away from the table.
“The pay is good,” Drew called after her. When she was out of earshot, he turned to Tia. “If she knows your mother, we might have a problem.”
“They play cards together.” Tia toyed with the silverware by her place mat.
“Which means they gossip.”
“Talk.”
“Whatever.”
Tia drew a breath that pulled Drew’s attention to the way her breasts strained the soft material of her tank-style pajama top. His desperate need from the night before flooded back, but he ignored it, motivated more by keeping his deal with Tia than his libido.
“We have to be careful how we behave so that she doesn’t catch on to the fact that we hardly know each other.”
“That only means we have to pretend to like each other when she’s around.”
Drew shook his head. “You’re not understanding what I’m telling you. She lives here.”
“And I’ll only be here on weekends,” Tia reminded him, not meeting his eyes, again overly interested in her silverware.
Drew frowned. There wasn’t a darned thing wrong with her fork and spoon, yet she kept moving them as if it mattered which one sat where. Not wanting to make too big of a deal out of it for fear Mrs. Hernandez would notice her nervousness, Drew returned his attention to the newspaper and casually asked, “Are you okay this morning?”
“Sure. I’m great.”
“You seem to be mighty interested in the order of your fork and spoon.” He heard his housekeeper approach the table and quickly changed the subject. “Tell Mrs. Hernandez what you want for breakfast.”
“Eggs,” she said, smiling at the eager woman waiting to serve her. “And toast.”
“Piece of cake,” Mrs. Hernandez said and began to walk away.
But Tia said, “Cake. You know, some pancakes would taste really good, too.”
Mrs. Hernandez turned and smiled. “Eggs. Toast. Pancakes. Sounds good.”
She took another two steps before Tia said, “Do you have any hash browns?”
Mrs. Hernandez stopped. “No, but I can make them.”
“Good,” Tia said, rising from her seat. “Maybe I’ll just grab a piece of fruit while I wait.”
Mrs. Hernandez gaped at her. “How in the name of all that is holy do you stay so thin?”
“We’re not telling anybody yet,” Drew said, concluding that the best way to keep Mrs. Hernandez from looking too closely at their relationship was to distract her, “but Tia’s pregnant. Just feed her.”
Mrs. Hernandez stopped dead in her tracks. “Pregnant!” she crooned. “We’re going to have a baby!”
“Tia and I are going to have a baby. You’re going to have more laundry.”
“I love laundry!” she said, and scurried away, surrepititously wiping her eyes.
“That was pretty crafty.”
“I know how to handle her,” Drew said, glancing around his kitchen at the dark oak cupboards with the shiny, slate-gray granite countertops. The room was simple, but he made sure that Mrs. Hernandez had every convenience and small appliance available at her disposal. He might give her a rough time, but she had it pretty good here so she wouldn’t quit. The only problem was that she might inadvertently reveal personal things to Elizabeth that could give them away.
“I still think we’ve got a problem.”
Tia shook her head in dismay. “I’m beginning to see you’re a worrier.”
“I’m more of a planner. If we really were in love and married,” he said, glancing over to make sure Mrs. Hernandez was out of earshot, “we wouldn’t be out of bed yet. We wouldn’t have gotten up separately. And that guest room wouldn’t have been slept in.”
“Oh, shoot,” Tia said through a groan. “You’re right.”
“I’ll slip out in a minute and go upstairs and make the bed in the guest room. Then as soon as you can, you get your stuff into my room.”
He caught her gaze and she said nothing. But she didn’t have to. They’d just barely managed to avoid making love the night before and tonight they would be sleeping in the same room. They wouldn’t have the escape of sleeping apart. They would be side by side in his king-size bed.
The sexual tension that had hummed between them the night before filled the room again. He saw the need in her blue eyes as clearly as he felt his own desire tighten his body.
Still, he was the older, wiser partner in this deal and, if it killed him, he would be strong. “Don’t worry. Like you said, it’s only for weekends and I can sleep on the floor.”
“You shouldn’t have to sleep on the floor.”
“You have a better idea?” he asked, then loudly added, “Plus, Mrs. Hernandez can babysit.”
“I heard that,” the housekeeper said as she scurried over to serve Tia a plate of eggs and toast. “Pancakes are on their way.”
“I know you heard,” Drew said. “That’s just my way of letting you know I can hear you when you try to sneak up on me.”
“Smart aleck.”
Mrs. Hernandez walked away and Drew leaned close to Tia. “She’s crazy about me.”
“She thinks you’re insane, the same as I do.”
“Then my work here is done.” He rose from the table. “Get your things out of the guest room as soon as you’re done eating,” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her. She stared at him with her big blue eyes and everything inside Drew leapt to life, all but begging him to change his mind about making love. But that was out of the question because that would change the dynamic of their divorce, and a nasty divorce wasn’t acceptable.
He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her long enough that Mrs. Hernandez wouldn’t wonder, but also long enough to get all of his adrenaline pumping and his hormones doing a happy dance.
He swore he heard those same hormones groan when he pulled away, but just as he’d already reminded himself, this was the right thing to do.
Chapter Five
Tia left the breakfast table and nonchalantly slipped upstairs to clear her things out of the guest room and get herself settled in the master suite. Repacking the suitcase wasn’t difficult. All she had to do was zip it closed and toss it onto the bed, which Drew had made as he’d promised. Her gown and veil were on a hanger in a garment bag with her shoes. All in all, it took her two minutes to get everything ready to move.
With her cosmetic bag under one arm, her garment bag over her shoulder and her suitcase in her hand, she peeked out the bedroom door. No one. She didn’t even hear Mrs. Hernandez humming. She was totally alone.
Still, she didn’t waste a second getting to the room at the end of the hall. She rushed down the corridor, pushed open the door with her shoulder, dumped her things on the floor and then closed the door behind her.
Her heart thumped with the fear of getting caught, but as she glanced around Drew’s bedroom, it picked up even more. His suite was fantastic.
A black-and-white, geometric-design bedspread lay across the king-size bed. Black-and-white pillows of all shapes, sizes and designs littered the space beneath the headboard. Shiny black bedside tables held pewter lamps and red candles. Matching wing chairs sitting on a red area rug created a sophisticated conversation area in the curve of the bay window, which, with the curtains pulled back, provided a panoramic view of the green hills of Drew’s farm.
The walls held black-and-white photographs of horses prancing to the winner’s circle or in the winner’s circle. Tia guessed they were horses Drew had bred. The room was chic, but masculine, and reminded her that there was so much about Drew that she didn’t know. It also reminded her that he was more expe
rienced than she was, more worldly. Two weeks ago she might have said that didn’t matter, but having endured her failure at work, she suddenly saw that it did.
She walked to the bed and ran her fingers across the smooth silk comforter, trying to talk herself out of being nervous by reminding herself that Drew was an architect. And as for how well-appointed his house was, she’d long ago suspected he’d hired a decorator. Sure, he was older than she was. Yes, he had knowledge and experience that she didn’t. But she wasn’t a child. She also wasn’t an idiot. She was pretty smart herself. And as for experience, she was getting it in spades just by dealing with him.
Besides, she only had to interact with him on weekends. If she had to be with him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, she might have opportunities to make a fool of herself. As it was, she would only see him forty-eight hours a week. She would be fine.
By the time she had her few shirts, capris, jeans and undergarments in the drawers of the empty dresser she found in the huge walk-in closet, and her gown hanging in the back, she felt like her normal, confident self. But when she walked out onto the front porch with her laptop, intending to do some work while Drew was in the barn, she saw Rayne Fegan pulling into Drew’s driveway, and her confidence took a direct hit.
She didn’t know what kind of bug had bitten Rayne that she felt she had to get Tia’s dad out of office. That was yet another reality Tia had to deal with.
“Hi, Tia,” Rayne called as she stepped out of her little blue car. About five-six with naturally blond hair that she always wore in a ponytail or wrapped in a bun, Rayne was a pretty girl who downplayed her appearance in favor of promoting her intelligence. If the lack of makeup and ponytail didn’t get that point across, then the neutral-colored T-shirts she wore with too-big jeans usually did.
“How are you this morning?”
“I’m fine, Rayne,” Tia said, annoyance seeping into her voice though she tried hard to stop it.
“That’s good.” Rayne walked to the front porch. “Sorry about visiting the day after your wedding, but the minister accidentally stuffed your marriage certificate into his jacket pocket yesterday. After services this morning he asked me to deliver it.”
Tia looked at the envelope Rayne was handing to her, then lifted her gaze to meet Rayne’s. Rayne smiled and Tia didn’t see the face of an enemy or even a stranger. Today, Rayne simply looked like Tia’s old friend. The other outcast. The person in whom Tia had confided. The one who knew how long Tia had had a crush on Drew Wallace. And maybe the only person who wouldn’t be at all surprised that Tia had married him.
“Thanks.”
Rayne smiled sheepishly. “He told me your wedding was very nice.”
“It was,” Tia said, suddenly awash with guilt that she hadn’t invited the one person who really had been her friend in high school. “I’m sorry I didn’t invite you,” she said awkwardly. “But you know, you and I kind of drifted apart in the past few years.”
To her surprise, Rayne laughed. “And I am throwing slings and arrows at your dad.”
“But why?” Tia asked, abundantly confused. The Rayne Fegan Tia remembered was a smart girl who only wanted to be taken seriously. Sure, she’d had a schoolgirl crush on Tia’s older brother Jericho, but though that had embarrassed her, it wasn’t enough to turn Rayne into an enemy. More than that, Rayne wasn’t the kind of person to gossip or even get involved in small-town politics. She had always been certain she was destined for bigger and better things. Yet here she was in the little town she hated, doing the very things she swore she’d never do.
“My dad hasn’t ever done anything to you—”
“He’s never done anything at all, Tia.”
Tia gasped.
Rayne sighed. “Oh, come on. There’s been no increase in services since he took over. He’s brought in no jobs for the hundreds of young people who have been forced to move closer to D.C. to find work.” She sighed again. “Face it, Tia, he’s a good old boy. He intends to keep things the way they’ve always been so he and his friends continue to prosper.” She paused and shook her head. “Look who I’m talking to. You married one of those good old boys who wants everything to stay the same.” She took a deep breath and turned to go. “See you around.”
With that, she jogged down the steps and Tia stared after her. She understood what Rayne was saying, but she also understood her father’s perspective. Progress wasn’t always good. Bigger wasn’t always better. Calhoun Corners was a town created by the needs of the surrounding horse farmers. As far as the families who still owned the farms around the town were concerned, that was the way it should stay. Quiet. Peaceful. The kind of place people forced to work in the city moved to raise their kids. There was nothing wrong with Calhoun Corners and deep down inside Tia suspected Rayne had to know that, too.
As Tia watched Rayne’s car disappear down Drew’s lane, Drew bounded up the back steps of the wraparound porch and joined her. “What the hell did she want?”
Tia waved the marriage license. “The minister somehow took this with him.”
Drew took the envelope, glanced inside and groaned. “Matt must have given him this envelope instead of the check for his services!”
“I’ll take the check into town.”
Drew shook his head. “Not alone. Not the day after our wedding. I’ll get it to him tomorrow.”
“But…”
“No buts. It might have appeared that Rayne came to drop this off, but you do realize she saw us apart, right?”
Tia’s eyes narrowed. “You think she used our license as an excuse to spy on us?”
Drew laughed and shook his head. “You don’t think she’s going to come right out and tell you that she’s here to see if we really are the happy couple we’re supposed to be. The reverend probably mentioned that Matt had given him the wrong envelope and she probably volunteered to bring it out. Tia, I know you were friends in high school, but she’s not the same Rayne anymore.”
Tia nodded her understanding. It was just one more stupid thing she had done this weekend. But in a way, she was glad Rayne had showed up because now that she was angry she wasn’t going to make another mistake. She would carry this charade through without a hitch.
Drew’s stomach tied in a knot when he entered his dining room that evening. Mrs. Hernandez was serving dinner on the shiny mahogany table, which she’d set with the good china and crystal that she’d bought for him. She had flowers in the center of the table—roses, for which he’d probably get the bill. As he walked in, she was pouring a glass of champagne at his place setting. Tia’s glass was already filled and he noticed the open bottle of sparkling grape juice sitting in the ice bucket.
“This is nice,” he said, trying not to grit his teeth. This was hell. Seeing that Tia hadn’t just brought her things into his room, but had been smart enough to put her clothes into empty drawers in his closet and her toothbrush beside his in the container on the sink had set his blood humming. If Mrs. Hernandez weren’t around, he could ignore Tia, or insult her into ignoring him. Instead, he had to play a love-struck newlywed.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Tia said happily as she tipped her face up to his to accept his kiss. He gave her a quick kiss, but realized that as a newlywed he had to do better than a peck on her lips, and he deepened the kiss, sending his hormones into overdrive and making him tense enough to want to choke somebody.
“It is beautiful,” he said, then turned to Mrs. Hernandez with a smile. “And you aren’t needed.” He didn’t have to work to make his voice sound sex-starved and like that of a man hungry for his new bride. The kiss had accomplished that.
Drew’s housekeeper smiled dreamily. “If you were on a real honeymoon, you would be in a restaurant and you would have a waitress. Just think of me that way.”
“If we were on a real honeymoon, we’d get room service. Now scram.”
Huffing indignantly, but obviously realizing he was correct, Mrs. Hernandez shuffled from the room.
&n
bsp; Drew took his seat at the head of the table. Sitting catty-cornered from him, Tia leaned forward and whispered, “Wasn’t this sweet of her?”
“Or she’s trying to trip us up as much as Rayne is.”
Tia gasped. “But why? I might believe Rayne would be doing it because she likes Auggie Malloy and wants to see him get elected. But Mrs. Hernandez has no reason.”
“To her it would be pure sport.”
“But she likes me.”
“Of course she does. My guess is she thinks I cast an evil spell on you and it’s her job to rescue you.”
Tia laughed, then turned her attention to filling her plate. They ate their dinner in almost complete silence until Drew realized that newlyweds would be chatting and flirting. He leaned toward Tia and whispered, “Giggle.”
She peered at him. “Giggle?”
“Make it sound like I said something cute.”
Tia whispered, “I’m not going to giggle. I don’t giggle.”
Deciding that all their whispering could pass as lover’s communication, Drew kept it going. “Past the giggling stage, huh?”
“Long ago.”
“I know,” Drew admitted, continuing to keep his voice soft and quiet, particularly since the mood was right for him to do something that had been gnawing at him since he’d talked to Tia’s dad the day before. “I think I need to apologize.”
She tilted her head questioningly. “Apologize?”
“You really have grown up. You’re not a kid. You’re twenty-four. Lots of women have six kids by now.”
She laughed.
“Good enough.” When Tia gave him a confused look, he said, “The laugh. If Mrs. H. was listening at the door, your laugh would have made her think I said something clever.”
“Oh.”
The candles around the roses sent light flickering across Tia’s face. Brimming with confusion, her eyes told him she was as unsure as he was, and that made him want to comfort her. Thinking of comforting her made him want to hold her. And, of course, thinking of holding her made him want to make love. In his head, Drew cursed Mrs. Hernandez, who was probably standing just beyond the swinging door, then he cursed himself for being so spoiled as to employ a full-time housekeeper.